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Chapter Nine -- FOUR DAYS AGO 11:48 AM

Samantha's P.O.V.

    Already regretting it, I walked up the stairs to my father's house as I debated whether or not to proceed inside. There's no doubt about it -- Danielle is my father's favorite out of the two of us. Ever since mom died, it's been all about her. I don't mind it. I just wish it wasn't true right now, considering the possible outcome of the situation.

    The door squeaked open, and I walked inside. Just as quick as a blink, a tall man with thinning gray hair stood in front of me. His expression of hope was almost instantly faded into disappointment and sorrow.

    "Nothing?" he asked, sadly.

    I shook my head.

    My heart ached as I watched him waddle back into the living room and plump down into his recliner. I noticed the phone was moved from its original place in the kitchen to the portable tray table in front of Dad. He'll never stop waiting for that to ring with good news. The thing is, I don't know if it will ever ring with any besides bad.

    I have no idea if I'm going to be able to destroy that evidence. I mean, these guys killed these girls and the only way to bring them to justice is with my "pathetic box" of evidence. How can I take basically their last dying wish away from them like that?

    "Is that Douche guy, what's his name?" Dad questioned, trying to put his finger on the answer.

    I smiled weakly and replied, "Doug? Yeah, we can refer to him as that douche guy."

    "Well, is he doing any better at his job?" he asked. I shrugged. "What? Can they not even tell you what's going on?"

    "Any time I try to ask them, they tell me that when they find something, I'll be the first to know."

    No one spoke after that. All that filled the space between us was the awkward tension of our lack of father-daughter bonding. I find myself waiting for Dani to come in and save the day, smothering that awkwardness with her perky attitude. It never came as the silence started to suffocate me.

Dad just stared off into space. I thought I was staring off into space, as well, but I was actually watching Dad closely. I furrowed my eyebrows, noticing something different about him.

    It looked almost like he had lost a bunch of weight since the last time I saw him which was only a couple days ago. Has he been eating?

    Worried, I asked him, "Dad, have you had breakfast yet?"

    He looked frazzled by my question. When he answered, he turned away from my face. "Oh, yeah, just finished."

    "Dad? Have you even ate the past three days?" I asked, deeply concerned. My heart dropped when he shrugged, not letting myself believe it until he did. "Dad, you have to eat. You need to keep up your health for when we really need your help or when Danielle returns."

    "And when will that be? What if she never comes back?" he replied, frantically. Tears were evident in his eyes as he spoke. "She was suppose to visit the number one college on her list today, you know? They even talked to her about a scholarship. Full ride. It was perfect for her. She was so excited. I may never see her like that again..."

    "Dad, don't say that," I softly ordered.

    He turned to me, a fat tear rolling down his cheek. "But it's true. I may never see her happy again. Or even her in general again. The next time I see her, she might be like those girls in your case. I can't. I-I can't, Sam. I can't."

    As he broke off into silent sobs, I walked over and pulled him into a supportive hug of comfort. Seeing him like this tore my heart up into little pieces. The only other time I ever saw my father cry was when my mother passed away. He was sure that was going to the worst couple of months of his life. Oh, how wrong was he.

    "I can't l-lose her, Sam. I don't think I-I'll be ab-le to live without her. She's my daughter. I would have nothing without her."

    It kind of annoyed me how he spoke as if he wouldn't have a daughter if Danielle died, since I'm also his daughter, but I didn't let it get to me. Danielle was a splitting image of our mother. I understood why he favorites Dani more than me. It isn't something I would bring up during a time like this anyway.

    After about fifteen minutes, he stopped crying and pulled away from me. He ignored me, obviously upset, so I said goodbye to him. He didn't say anything back besides a sniffle. I didn't mind. I deal with people like this all the time at work.

    I took my coat from the coat rack and put it on when something caught my eye. Alan and Tyler were both sitting on the porch swing, talking to one another. Tyler was wiping his eyes with his sleeves as Alan spoke, and when Tyler was the one speaking, Alan would listen intently.

    I stepped close to the window to hear their conversation, curious of what Alan's advice was.

    "-- you can't worry about that. Just think of ways you can help her," he said.

    "How can I help her, though? I don't even know where she is," Tyler pointed out, wiping his nose.

    Alan waved his hands in front of him as he spoke. "No, no, no. That's not what I mean, Ty. I'm saying things around here you can do. Dani wouldn't want you moping around."

    He looks up at Alan with furrowed eyebrows, confused but attentive with his advice. "How do I do that?"

    "Umm, well, help Don out around the house, keep his spirits high and food in his stomach. Anything will work, Tyler," Alan answered, patting Tyler's back in support.

    "I just...I hate this. I'm constantly thinking about what they can be doing to her or even if she's alive, and it freaks me out. I can't breathe. I  want to be strong, I really do, but how when I'm this weak teenage boy?"

    Alan shifted uncomfortably as he thought of a way to answer it, but it didn't take long for his to come up with something. I hated to see Tyler like this, and I know he did too. Ty's pale skin was much whiter than I've ever seen, and his red swollen eyes with bags under them speak for themselves about how much crying he has been doing instead of sleeping.

    "You're not weak, Tyler. You've been through a lot. Just know that Danielle will be in good hands and...and she'll be okay. We won't let anything happen to her."

    It both confused me and comforted me with what Alan said. What does he mean by "Danielle will be in good hands" and "we won't let anything happen?" Maybe he's just speaking metaphorically.

    "Are you sure?" Tyler asked, hopeful. With Alan's few simple words of assurance, Tyler seemed to look back to himself in seconds.

    Alan nodded and pulled him into a hug that I knew was both needed for him and Tyler. He hated to see Ty when he was upset, asking how to fix his mistakes when he messed up a little with Dani, or when he was just down. He would do anything for this kid even though he is just a friend. That is what I adore about him. He'll do anything for anyone.

    I opened the door and stepped outside, acting as if this was the first time I saw them sitting there. I greeted, "Oh, hey, guys. Well, I'm off to the station. Alan, I'll bring home...um, how about Chinese?"

    He nodded, then got up and kissed me goodbye.

    For the next six hours in my office, I went over the extremely little amount of evidence I had again and again. I kept wondering if I should just take this and throw it into a fire or say goodbye to Danielle.

    If I did destroy it, I would definitely be fired and thrown in jail, but that didn't matter, since Danielle would be okay and safe at home. But on the other hand, if I didn't, the families may finally have closure knowing the monster who killed their daughter is locked up for good. I threw the idea back and forth awhile before I settled on the one that seemed the most selfish, but I didn't care.

    I wanted Danielle back.

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Do you think Sammie is doing the right thing by destroying the evidence? What do you think you would do?

Shout-outs: cheesefists, princesofhearts, and Diksha_and_borkalita you guys are great! Thank you for all the support!!